Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Science -- Periodicals
Every one of our Relicts had her private sitting-room attached to her
bed-room, the house having been built expressly to suit the demands of
_bourgeois_ widows with fortunes. Thus our _salon_ was of very little
account until after dinner, when our widows, instead of returning to
their own rooms, the garden, or the boulevard, where they spent the day,
herded together around card-tables almost as closely as sheep in a pen.
The _salon_ was not intended for daytime use; in the bitterest weather
it had no fire until evening, and it had but a single window, which
looked out upon the pavement of a well-like court arched over, three
stories above, by a handkerchief bit of sky. Very little light or air
ever entered the box-like place; during the day its atmosphere was stale
and heavy, at night almost fetid. Whenever we ventured to pass an hour
there our struggle was always against fate. Slyly we would leave the one
door an inch ajar, or surreptitiously unclose the window a fraction as
much. Scarcely, however, had we begun to congratulate ourselves upon
success when half a score of antique roses flaunted and flared, and the
death-knell of sly hopes sounded with echoed and re-echoed cry: "_Mon
Dieu!_ I smell air!" "_Mon Dieu!_ Smell you not air?" "_Mon Dieu!_ Smell
we not air?" "_Mon Dieu!_ Smells she not air?" "_Mon Dieu!_ Smell they
not air?"
Almost all our _veuves_ had children and grandchildren in Paris, and we
were continually surprised to see the mundane elegance of these younger
branches of our withered old trees. It showed the usual history,
however, of _bourgeois_ parents who had worked steadily, lived humbly
and economically, to gather _dots_ for their daughters and open careers
for their sons, to see them thus rise to positions in life far above
their parents. Every day some of these younger branches came to our
house in handsome carriages and toilets; and indeed on some days the
number of elegant visitors who rang at our door gave the impression of a
gay reception _a la mode_ rather than of the ordinary visitors of a
_pension bourgeoise_ at Saint-Maude.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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